The Meaning of Red
by walutahanga
Summary: A DT story set before the teamup. Conner chooses his brother to take up his powers in the case of his death.


**The Colour of Blood**

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**Disclaimer:** Power rangers is not mine. I think it belongs to Disney at the moment.

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**Notes: **I've been working on this fic on and off for ages. It started off with the rangers having to name who would take their place in case they fell (quite a sensible plan, seeing as rangers actually can die, thank you Kendrix), and Conner agonizing over choosing his own brother. And somehow that slipped into an exploration of the brotherly dynamic between Eric and Conner, which fascinates me because you don't see a lot of that in fic.

So here we go. Apologies in advance for shameless symbolism knocking you repeatedly over the head. I always tell my friends that symbolism is everything, and I'm sure they're ready to kill me for that by now.

As always, constructive criticism is welcome.

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Dr O once said that red was the colour of blood.

That never really hit home until the day Eric cut his hand. Conner's twin had come into the kitchen, looking pale and holding his hand.

"Dude, you think you could get me a tissue or something?"

Their parents hadn't been home, but Conner had seen enough injuries to know what to do.

"Let me have a look," he said. He pried Eric's good hand away from the injured one, and examined the cut. It was along Eric's thumb, and was sluggishly oozing blood. There was already blood on his yellow shirt.

"It's not too deep," Conner said. "I'll get the first aid kit."

He left his brother with a tea towel wrapped around his hand, and fetched the kit from the hallway cupboard. He was limping slightly, because Zeltrax had taken a swipe at his leg a few days ago.

"When's the last time you had your tetanus shot?" He asked as he set the kit down on the table.

"Last year, I think."

"You should be safe from infection then." As he took out the cotton-wool buds and set the bottle of alcohol on the table, he noticed Eric giving him a funny look.

"What?" He demanded.

"Since when could you look at blood without passing out?"

Conner unscrewed the cap from the bottle of alcohol and dampened a cottonwool bud.

"I dunno. I just did."

He'd had to once he became a ranger. Injuries had become a way of life. Cuts, bruises, burns – they healed quickly, but they hurt like a bitch while they were there. All of the rangers had had to learn to treat themselves, lest questions be raised by suspicious families. Conner's sword wound now barely showed, but he'd had to tell his parents he'd pulled a muscle during soccer practise to explain why he was limping.

He began dabbing at the cut. His brother made a sound and turned away, his face scrunched up in pain or disgust.

"Wimp," Conner said.

"Jerk," Eric retorted.

"If this is how you react to a tiny little scratch, I'd hate to see you in a car accident."

"Dude, It's _blood_. I hate blood. We've hated blood since we were babies. It's gross and red and… can we please not talk about this?"

"You're going to have to get used to it sooner or later."

"Yeah, and if I have my way it's going to be later. A _lot_ later."

_Later might be sooner than you think. _The words were on the tip of Conner's tongue. He kept his head down, though, binding his brother's hand.

Six months ago, when they first became rangers, Dr O had called them to the Dino Lair. They'd come, expecting a monster to fight, or a new weapon to try out. Instead, he'd given them all a piece of paper and told them to write down the name of their successor. Rangering, he'd explained, was a dangerous business. There was a chance that some of them wouldn't make it. In which case, they would need someone to carry on their place.

"_But it's not like it's going to happen, right?" _Connor had been trying to check out his hair in the glass of the computer screen._ "I mean, how many rangers have _actually_ died…"_

"_Six." _

Conner had stopped looking at his reflection, and at Dr O.

"_I know of at least six rangers who have died in the line of duty." _He'd pointed at Conner's jersey. _"By the end of this year, that red will be blood. Your enemies' blood, and the blood of people you couldn't save. If you're lucky, it won't be yours or your team-mates'."_

It was around then that Conner had started having serious doubts about this whole rangering business. Not long after, he'd got the offer for a soccer scholarship and given it serious thought. Besides the obvious benefits of a sporting career and paid-for education, the whole red-blood analogy had begun to creep him out.

In the end, he'd decided to stay, though. It was thinking about the whole '_blood of people you couldn't save' _that got to him. Maybe he couldn't save everyone, but how many more would die in his absence?

Conner smoothed down the gauze on Eric's hand.

"There. All done." Then, just to prove he was still Connor, he smirked at his brother. "Want me to kiss it better?"

Eric shoved him away.

"Jerk."

"Careful. You'll ruin all my hard work."

As his twin left to get changed, Conner packed up the first aid kit. A few cotton balls were left on the table, stained red. Gazing at them, it occurred to Conner that he and his brother shared the same blood. Even on the genetic level, it was virtually indistinguishable.

He wrapped a plastic bag around the cotton balls and chucked them in the bin. He made sure to use lots of soap when he washed his hands in the sink. He watched the water slip between his fingers, the suds circling the drain.

Six months ago, he'd written a name down on a piece of paper. That name was Eric McKnight.

As usual when he thought about it, Conner's stomach knotted up. The most responsibility Eric had ever handled was not telling anyone about the ninja academy he was attending in secret – and even then he'd lasted all of two days before he blurted it out to his brother.

To make matters worse, Conner's chances of dying were looking pretty high right about now. The rangers had an insane white ranger on the loose, a mutant dinosaur breathing down their necks, and their leader was quite literally fossilized. In Dr O's absence, Conner had had to step up to the plate, and he had the sinking certainty that he was failing.

Hayley tried, but she was there for tech support. She didn't have the invaluable battle experience, or the implicit understanding of rangers that Dr O had. There were a lot of questions Conner had never got to ask the man.

Like, for instance, what happens when you couldn't tell who the monsters are? Sure Trent was acting pretty monstrously (and Conner wasn't sure he bought the whole 'evil gem' excuse) but the guy was still human.

Conner wasn't sure he had it in him to kill a human being. But if something didn't change soon, it would be kill or be killed. Either way, a ranger died, and that blood on his uniform became more than just a metaphor.

"Hey, dude."

Eric was standing in the doorway. He'd changed his shirt. The bloody one was gone. This new one was white and crisp like fresh sheets.

"Thanks," he said. "Next time you get sliced up, I'll play mom."

Conner shifted his weight from his right leg, suddenly conscious of the sword-wound. He had the sudden, amusing image of him staggering into the house, with Zeltrax's sword sticking out of his gut.

'_Oh, this? Nothing to worry about. I just got a little sliced up. Pass the bandaids?'_

He was fairly sure that if Eric ever saw him after a real battle, he'd go into gibbering shock at the sight of all the blood.

"That's if you don't faint, wuss," he said lightly, turning the tap off.

"Ass-hole."

"Bitch."

There was a brief pause while his brother searched for a new insult.

"Egotist."

Conner laughed to himself. Trading insults with his twin was so much more fun than with Zeltrax. Eric, at least, was creative. The big cyborg was sputtering helplessly within ten seconds.

"Anyways," Eric said. "I'm off. There's a skating competition in the park, and I'm late as it is."

"Later, then." A thought occurred to Conner. "Hey, Eric. How did you cut yourself anyway?"

"Oh…" Eric looked sheepish as he paused in the doorway. "I was practising this new move that Sensei Dustin showed me with a katana. Only I don't think I did it right."

Conner stared at his brother.

"Oh." He said, unable to think of anything else to say.

Eric shrugged.

"No biggie. I'll get him to show it to me again when I get back."

"Be careful." Conner said it without thinking. At Eric's suspicious look, he quickly added; "You're _so_ going to need it."

Eric huffed.

"You're just jealous because I happen to be good at this. Sensei Dustin says that if I apply myself – and don't get expelled again – I could be a ranger one day!"

His eyes were sparkling at the thought. Conner had the eeriest feeling of _da'je'vu_, like he was standing outside himself, and seeing what he must have looked like to Doctor O when he held a morpher for the first time.

"Wouldn't that be great," he managed to say.

Eric grinned, misinterpreting the reluctance in his brother's voice.

"Jealous…" He repeated in a singsong voice. "Later, dude!"

Watching his brother disappear out the door, Conner sent up the silent, heartfelt prayer that his brother would never know the meaning of red.

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**Notes: **Oh yeah, one more thing. When Dr O talks about six rangers dying, he's including the robot rangers from the Turbo season. Apparently they were destroyed when Zordon was kidnapped. Along with Kendrix (who admittedly was resurrected), that makes six. I probably could have included others, but I was trying to confine it to characters that actually were rangers and actually died while in uniform.


End file.
